


Puma

by yeaka



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 14:02:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15607875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Otabek drives Yuri back to the hotel.





	Puma

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pallidvixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallidvixen/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for pallidvixen’s “Otayuri, #29 [a kiss as a promise]” request on [my tumblr prompt list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/176075204220/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri On Ice or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Otabek’s motorcycle is a huge, hulking thing that makes Yuri feel _alive_. It vibrates beneath him with the hum of raw _power_ , it’s sleek black lines and metal casing just like Otabek’s dark clothes. It makes Yuri wonder how he ever missed Otabek’s performances before—he must skate like a beast. He’s tall, broad, and manly, which feels like a stupid thing to think, but Yuri thinks it anyway. Otabek’s so _cool_.

For once, Yuri keeps his mouth shut about that opinion. He buries his face between Otabek’s strong shoulder blades and clings tighter to Otabek’s middle, letting the wind whip back his hair beneath his borrowed helmet. His jacket isn’t really thick enough, but Yuri’s never known the Russian streets like this—whizzing past everyone else on a set of racing wheels. He _likes_ it. And there are very few things that Yuri Plisetsky likes. When he does like something, he goes all out. This feeling is quickly getting right up there with leopard print and outshining inferior competitors.

Otabek takes a sudden turn that makes Yuri’s stomach do strange things, his heart beating faster in his chest. The restaurant wasn’t that far, but he tries to calculate the distance in his head, half hoping his hotel up and moved a few blocks away during dinner. He wants this to last. He wants to keep the feeling of Otabek’s sturdy warmth amidst the cold air all around him, and maybe channel it into a routine—maybe his own choreography this time, something powerful and thunderous and just like _this_.

But the hotel emerges much too quickly, and Otabek slows before it, pulling off its street and over near the sidewalk. Most of the many windows are glowing yellow-white, the evening light punctured by that, the stars, and streetlamps. Yuri had been so enveloped in holding on that he didn’t realize how late it got. Otabek pulls up to the curb and putters to a stop. Yuri stubbornly holds on. Otabek still has to park, and he can’t do it here.

Otabek catches on. He tells Yuri gently, “This is your stop.” 

Yuri thinks of arguing. But that might look too needy, especially considering how new _this_ is, so he begrudgingly slips off the back. His first step is shaky. It’s strange to be on solid ground again—he feels like he’s floating. Sort-of-not-really like getting off the ice. Otabek stares up at him, expression fierce but otherwise unreadable, as he unbuckles the helmet. He holds it out for Otabek to take, grunting an awkward, “Thanks for the ride.”

Otabek glances at the helm, but he doesn’t take it. He answers, “Any time.”

“You mean that?” Placing his spare hand on his hip, Yuri leans down to warn, “Any time I want?” He can’t help the little smirk that tugs at his lips. He keeps getting so caught up in how cool Otabek is that he forgets he’s cool himself. And Otabek knows it. Otabek admires _him_.

Otabek closes the distance, tilting in to peck Yuri’s cheek. Yuri freezes in shock. Otabek pulls back and translates, “That’s a promise.” Utterly unfazed, he turns back to the road and revs up the engine.

Yuri stays there, still clutching the helmet and maybe blushing like a virgin bride or a schoolgirl with a crush. Either way, totally not _manly_. 

Yuri pulls his hood up and hurriedly disappears into the hotel, muttering once, “So _cool_...”


End file.
